An insane power surged through him, forming a rhythm with his
heartbeat. Soul Edge seemed to have a life of its own. It crackled with
vibrant electricity, tendrils of crimson entwining with a razor-sharp
rapier blade. A minuscule eye blinked intermittently on the rapier blade,
and seemed to stare malevolently at everyone. For a split-second, Raphael
thought it was a terribly revolting artifact and wondered if it was worth
it. And the eye swiveled...to see him in the eye.
Wild images soared through Raphael's mind, each swirling around each in a mass of colour, tearing up the other memories and replacing them, to blur into an impregnable blaze. Flames lit up the dark caverns of the memories, the tongues of fire licking the images as they lit up, revealing so much more...
He was an undead pirate now; nothing much mattered but the fact that he kept Soul Edge for all eternity. He was one with the blade, and the glorious rush of power. Cervantes adjusted his hat as he reminisced about his father's strong arms around him in a hug. Snarling, he tried to push that aside and instead thought of the massive destruction soon to unfold.
"Fire, men!" he yelled in that screeching, eerie voice of his, and the cannon's blasted a terrible volley towards the town. He laughed evilly, the vile cackle ringing in his pirate crew's ears. What was left resembled an incendiary skeleton, torched, charred, and utterly blackened. An acrid smoke wafted along, mingling with the sea air as Cervantes inhaled it delightfully. "Yes...wonderful." To celebrate, he drove his sword into one of his crew, sucking out the soul and leaving a shriveled mass.
He chortled at what he believed to be a weak opponent, a Greek woman with a sword and shield. Her long blond hair glowed like streaks of gold, a blaze of fire. "Well she certainly will be a blaze of fire when I'm done with her." Cervantes thought, an icy smile spreading across his face as he brandished Soul Edge...
It happened very suddenly, he felt the holy blade pierce his stomach, lifting him off the ground as the blade slid in deeper still before it was wrenched out with a squelch. Blood flowed freely down the sword, gruesome blood which reeked. Sophitia grimaced and lifted the blood-drenched sword for the last time, before it whistled through the air and the entire blade exploded, shattering into a thousand minute pieces.
Raphael felt the pain, an explosion of fury and flame, which blossomed into a fiery firework, the shards flying. It was excruciating, being mutilated and dismembered. The shards flew over the lands, settling in places far from each other. And yet...there was more...
Siegfried glowed with triumph, the kind that only comes from being victorious. Laughing in pride, he lifted the head up for the entire brigand to see. His father would have been proud. But an unspeakable horror overcame him and flowed into his icy veins as realization hit home: the head was his father's. He envisioned himself again, whipping the blade across the neck with accurate precision, and the head flew off.
Raphael was on the wooden floorboards of the ship, sweat surging downwards in torrents and waves. He didn't want to know what happened next. He covered his ears as Soul Edge opened itself up to him again. With a lightning-quick snap-kick, Raphael Sorel sent the rapier skittering across the floor as he sank into his chair, panting and staring at Soul Edge with something, not unlike trepidation, upon his face.
Wild images soared through Raphael's mind, each swirling around each in a mass of colour, tearing up the other memories and replacing them, to blur into an impregnable blaze. Flames lit up the dark caverns of the memories, the tongues of fire licking the images as they lit up, revealing so much more...
He was an undead pirate now; nothing much mattered but the fact that he kept Soul Edge for all eternity. He was one with the blade, and the glorious rush of power. Cervantes adjusted his hat as he reminisced about his father's strong arms around him in a hug. Snarling, he tried to push that aside and instead thought of the massive destruction soon to unfold.
"Fire, men!" he yelled in that screeching, eerie voice of his, and the cannon's blasted a terrible volley towards the town. He laughed evilly, the vile cackle ringing in his pirate crew's ears. What was left resembled an incendiary skeleton, torched, charred, and utterly blackened. An acrid smoke wafted along, mingling with the sea air as Cervantes inhaled it delightfully. "Yes...wonderful." To celebrate, he drove his sword into one of his crew, sucking out the soul and leaving a shriveled mass.
He chortled at what he believed to be a weak opponent, a Greek woman with a sword and shield. Her long blond hair glowed like streaks of gold, a blaze of fire. "Well she certainly will be a blaze of fire when I'm done with her." Cervantes thought, an icy smile spreading across his face as he brandished Soul Edge...
It happened very suddenly, he felt the holy blade pierce his stomach, lifting him off the ground as the blade slid in deeper still before it was wrenched out with a squelch. Blood flowed freely down the sword, gruesome blood which reeked. Sophitia grimaced and lifted the blood-drenched sword for the last time, before it whistled through the air and the entire blade exploded, shattering into a thousand minute pieces.
Raphael felt the pain, an explosion of fury and flame, which blossomed into a fiery firework, the shards flying. It was excruciating, being mutilated and dismembered. The shards flew over the lands, settling in places far from each other. And yet...there was more...
Siegfried glowed with triumph, the kind that only comes from being victorious. Laughing in pride, he lifted the head up for the entire brigand to see. His father would have been proud. But an unspeakable horror overcame him and flowed into his icy veins as realization hit home: the head was his father's. He envisioned himself again, whipping the blade across the neck with accurate precision, and the head flew off.
Raphael was on the wooden floorboards of the ship, sweat surging downwards in torrents and waves. He didn't want to know what happened next. He covered his ears as Soul Edge opened itself up to him again. With a lightning-quick snap-kick, Raphael Sorel sent the rapier skittering across the floor as he sank into his chair, panting and staring at Soul Edge with something, not unlike trepidation, upon his face.